


Crime & Punishment

by Syntaxeme



Series: Mixed Mythology [1]
Category: Book of Life (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Gods, Gravepainters, Multi, Mythology - Freeform, Trials
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-26 23:45:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2670851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syntaxeme/pseuds/Syntaxeme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[ Moral-switch AU: in which La Muerte and Xibalba's ethical codes have been more or less reversed ]</p>
<p>La Muerte has a bad habit of ending mortals' lives "before their time," whether it's for her own misguided entertainment or just to screw up Fate's plans. She sees it as a harmless game--however, there are other deities who see her endangering humans' lives on a whim and don't appreciate the senseless disruption. Xibalba's warnings may come a bit too late, as she soon finds herself on trial before a court of gods, most of whom aren't known for their mercy. It remains to be seen whether she'll be able to clear or name or be proven guilty and sentenced to some harsh divine punishment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crime & Punishment

            In a mountainside town in Peru, a young woman with dark hair and a playful look in her eyes was making her way up the rocky hillside with surprising ease. She seemed to be in high spirits, skipping across the rough terrain and reveling in the moonlight that shone down on her. She travelled alone but with purpose, as it soon became apparent she was looking for someone.

            It was a group, in fact, a small family with a camp overlooking the town. It was quite a scenic view, and even when she found them, she took a moment to admire the landscape. She stood some distance up the hill, looking down on their humble but happy gathering. It really was very sweet. Soon, however, she noticed a collection of rather precarious rocks, _large_ rocks that could do a human body significant harm, especially when rolling down a hill at high speeds. Hypothetically speaking.

            With that thought in mind, she started to reach toward the bottom of the pile—but her hand was caught by someone else’s. To her surprise, she was turned around to find a slyly handsome young man holding her hand, seeming all too happy to have found her there.

            “It’s not polite to spy, señorita,” he informed her. She smiled coyly.

            “I could say the same thing to you. It’s dangerous to go sneaking up on innocent young ladies like that; they might suspect you have ill intentions,” she said.

            “You’re absolutely right; if I see any, I’ll be sure to watch my step,” he agreed, kissing the back of her hand. “And speaking of danger, what is a lovely desert rose like yourself doing wandering the wilderness all alone?”

            “I may not be as delicate as you think,” she said, batting her eyes at him sweetly and making his heart skip.

            “Even so, you might feel better having someone at your side who could protect you,” he offered, pulling her forward just a bit by her hand.

            “Oh, that’s so sweet of you,” she purred, raising her free hand to stroke his cheek. As he sighed blissfully from her touch, she went on, “But who do you think is going to protect you~?”

            “Hm?”  He reopened his eyes just in time to see her grab hold of his shirt and drag him down toward her. Their lips met, and she ravished his mouth hungrily, while he whimpered helplessly and struggled to return her passion. When she finally released him, he stumbled and fell to the ground, reeling and trying to regain his bearings while she licked her lips with relish.

            “You look so suave, mi vida,” she told him. “But youth doesn’t suit you.”

            “Certainly not as well as it suits you,” he conceded, getting to his feet and shifting easily into a more recognizable form with dark wings and red eyes. Taking her hand once again, he gave her a twirl and then dipped her low, salsa-style. She laughed and followed his lead, changing back to her common form to complement his. Pleased with the familiar sight of his wife, of which he had been deprived for so long, Xibalba smiled and buried his face against her neck. “You look as beautiful as ever, mi amor.”

            “And you’re still trying to let humans live forever,” she said as she stood up straight, causing her husband to blanch.

            “They had _children_ , my love,” he pointed out earnestly; he had never understood why La Muerte so enjoyed toying with mortals’ lives. It wasn’t even that she wanted to kill them outright, just that she enjoyed putting their lives in danger and seeing whether they could find a way out of it. Just one of the many games she so enjoyed playing.

            “Children are mortal, too, cariño,” she said, though she didn’t try to pursue them further; the moment had passed, and it no longer mattered to her. She was far more interested in being with her love, whom she hadn’t seen in decades. “How is your kingdom?” The innocence in her voice belied her involvement in his “assignment” to the Land of the Forgotten.

            “Exactly the same as it’s always been,” he answered with a pout. “Just like I’m sure _yours_ is still vibrant and entertaining.”

            “Oh, mi vida, don’t be such a sore loser,” she cooed, twirling his beard around and around her fingers.

            “I only lost…because you…hmm….” He seemed to lose his train of thought, too caught up in the rapture of his wife’s touch to point out that she was a rotten cheater. He had been confined to the dreadfully boring task of “ruling” the Land of the Forgotten on his own for at least a thousand years, all thanks to his inability to stand up to her. He _had_ tried, but she was painfully aware of the power she had over him; she had easily silenced all of his arguments with gentle kisses and sweet words. No matter how much he berated himself for it later, in the moment, he never had the willpower to resist her.

            “Shh~, don’t dwell on the past, Balby. I’m just happy to be with you tonight.” It had been nearly a century since her last visit, so this coincidental meeting was a blessing. (La Muerte assumed it was a coincidence, at least. Xibalba’s past few days of tracking her across the globe proved her wrong.) “It must be nice to finally come back up to the surface, hm? A lot has changed while you’ve been away.”

            “So I’ve seen,” he said, righting himself and trying to regain his composure now that she had released her tender vice grip on his self-control. “I could be wrong, but I’ve noticed the mortals are more…impulsive now. As if they’re afraid that their lives could end at any moment, without warning. Have you noticed anything like that?” The question was pointed, almost accusatory, but La Muerte feigned innocence expertly.

            “Hmm, I don’t know if I have. I could understand them feeling that way, though. Accidents happen, you know.” And she so enjoyed it when they did. Perhaps it was just her way of further defying Fate by throwing the occasional wrench into her plans for humanity. The mortals had every right to make their own decisions, after all, so she always enjoyed turning their predetermined “paths” off course. If that meant cutting them off altogether, it didn’t bother her much, considering she presided over the splendid fiesta that awaited them in the Afterlife.

            “You should be more careful, mi amor. I’m sure there are certain people who aren’t thrilled about what you’re doing,” Xibalba said, concerned as always for the consequences that she seemed to ignore.

            “Es absurdo,” she answered, frowning at the mention of those “certain people” with whom she had never gotten along. “I’m not here to ‘thrill’ them. That privilege is saved just for you.” That last was added with a wink, and he had to take a moment to calm the sudden spike in his heart rate. Of course, _he_ could never take her to task over her abuse of power, and he pitied any other immortal who should try.

            “You’re right; it was silly of me to suggest that anyone could control you,” he said, catching her around her waist and pulling her close to him again; after years of being apart, he wanted as little distance between them as possible. “In fact, I wouldn’t blame you if you saw fit to set me straight with a little demonstration~”

            “ _Ooh_ , mi vida, you really did miss me, didn’t you?” she asked, stroking her fingertips down the back of his neck. Before he could manage an answer, the scent of smoke caught her attention, and her eyes left his. She released him and turned to look for the source, leaving her poor husband to mourn the sudden emptiness of his hands. But she was too busy searching the foot of the mountains to notice, scanning until—aha! “Do you see that? There’s a fire in town. What could’ve happened…?” Sensing where this was going, Xibalba took a step closer and made what he knew was a vain attempt to distract her.

            “We can investigate in the morning if you like,” he said, taking her hand, but she pulled away from him distractedly.

            “It would only be a moment. I’m so curious,” she mumbled, fascinated by the flames that they could see even from so far away. Well, he’d tried, at least.

            “Let’s go, then,” he said, and the smile she returned was worth whatever time he was sacrificing. The two raced down the cliffs, easily passing over steep inclines and jagged ledges to reach the town. As could be expected, the mortals seemed to be panicking a bit in their efforts to douse the fire, which had sprung up in a home shared by two families. Some people were still trapped inside.

            A mother had collapsed on the ground nearby, sobbing hysterically after having seen her child swallowed up by the flames before they could drag her outside. It was heart-wrenching. A cold pit formed in Xibalba’s stomach as he observed the suffering and mourning before him—but there was light sparkling in La Muerte’s eyes that didn’t come from the fire. She was enthralled, too curious to leave; before her husband could stop her, she had disappeared into the burning house. Of course, she was unaffected by the flames, so the humans had her full attention. She did pity them for enduring such a horrific death, but she reveled in that pain, both theirs and her own.

            As she strolled through, into the deepest part of the fire, she came across a child, no more than six. The boy was trapped in a corner, sobbing, mercifully choking before he could burn to death. The soft spot La Muerte had always held for children compelled her to approach him, to try to offer comfort in her own unconventional way—but she was halted by a flash of light on steel and a deadly-sharp, curved blade blocking her path. While she was frozen, processing what was going on, an all too familiar voice spoke with almost palpable disdain:

            “Hands off. We need to _talk_.”

            Xibalba was outside, still waiting for his love to return and sure that she would be—figuratively—alight with joy when she did. As he was doing what little he could to ease the victims’ suffering, however, his attention was caught by a furious shriek that he knew very well. On instinct, he immediately rushed toward the sound but stopped short when he saw exactly what was going on. That is, he saw what was happening, though he had no idea as to why.

            There, along with his wife, was a handful of other immortals, all of whom he recognized easily. Two of them were physically restraining La Muerte, each holding one of her arms so that she couldn’t break free or slip away. One of them was notable only because his dress identified him as a servant of Maat goddess of Justice. The other, whom La Muerte seemed to particularly abhor, was a woman named Atropos, better known as Fate. The third, standing to the side and looking uncomfortable about the entire situation, was called Chitragupta; put simply, he kept records of the actions of every living mortal, to be used when passing Judgment after their deaths.

            The fourth figure was by far the most intimidating, and it was her presence that indicated just how serious the matter was. It only took a moment for her to notice him, and when she did, she frowned. “Xibalba. Why am I not surprised?” she said, resting her Scythe against her shoulder.

            “If it’s any consolation, I certainly am,” he replied, forcing himself to stay civil even when his wife was in distress. The last thing he wanted was to antagonize the Grim Reaper, Death herself. Still, he had trouble concealing his anger completely. “I trust there’s a good reason that my wife is being manhandled this way?” The Reaper rolled her eyes behind the dark lenses of her glasses.

            “Sure, there are plenty. Mainly, she doesn’t know how to keep her damn hands to herself,” she said with an edge to her voice that matched his. “And she’s finally pissed off enough important people that something’s being done about it.”

            “What _exactly_ are you accusing me of?” La Muerte demanded, still trying her best to jerk out of her captors’ grasp.

            “Let’s see: ending mortals’ lives for your own entertainment, intentionally killing people just to ruin Fate’s plans, _cheating_ on bets with other immortals—” As a compulsive gambler herself, that one particularly bothered her. The Reaper glanced at La Muerte over her shoulder. “You want me to go on?”

            “Where are you taking her?” Xibalba asked, trying to cut the tension that was steadily building amongst the others. This time, it was Chitragupta who answered.

            “Purgatory. There’s going to be a trial, so everyone will attend to present their evidence for or against the case,” he said, matter-of-fact as always (maybe that was why he and Death worked so well together). Still, he seemed to almost feel guilty about what they were doing, as he refused to meet Xibalba’s eyes. “Until a verdict and a sentence are decided, she’ll be held there—”

            “Held? You mean imprisoned!” La Muerte snarled, outraged. “And how long could that take? Do you plan to just leave my realm unattended?”

            “Good point. Xibalba.” The tar-and-feather god flinched as Death called his name so sharply, but he looked to her without wavering. “You’re in charge of the Land of the Remembered now, too. You won that bet anyway, didn’t you?” He didn’t answer, while his wife gaped in horror; somehow, the thing he had wanted for so long held little allure if it meant being separated from his love.

            “I’m going with her,” he said firmly.

            “Are you sure that’s wise? If neither of you is on Earth _or_ in your Afterlife realms—” Atropos began to speak, but she was interrupted.

            “Don’t you dare try to keep him from me,” La Muerte hissed.

            “Right. I suppose logic would be too much to ask from you two,” Atropos answered with a resigned sigh. Turning back to Xibalba, she went on, “But you won’t be able to stay constantly. If you did, all three realms would suffer, and I know you care too much to let that happen.” She may have been correct, but he wouldn’t admit it.

            “Let me worry about that,” he said, then directly to La Muerte: “I won’t let them keep you there for long.” Death, it seemed, was growing impatient; she was checking the time on a pocket watch from her coat, clearing her throat loudly.

            “Romantic false promises aside, we need to get going. If you’re coming with us, keep up.” The host of policing immortals departed with their prisoner, and Xibalba followed close behind, his mind racing as he considered their options. What he really wanted was to free her, by force if necessary, and spirit her away somewhere she couldn’t be pursued by the other gods she had angered. But he knew better. Now that she had been caught and so severely charged, the safest course of action was simply to see the “trial” through and do all that they could to clear her name. So much for their romantic reunion….


End file.
